The Rights of a She-Cat
by FerncloudxDustpelt
Summary: She-cats may not fight. Nor can they choose their own mate. Follow Willowsong, who strives for equality and freedom in a land with none. A revolution is brewing, but will it all come crashing down?


The Warrior Code:

Kits may not leave camp

She-cats may not fight

At least one tom must be in the nursery at all times

A she-cat may not be a deputy or leader

A She-cat's father must choose who her mate will be

She-cats may not mentor a cat

Allegiances:

StormClan:

Leader: Lionstar a golden brown tom with cool green eyes

Deputy: Sparrowtail a dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Medicine Cat: Cloudwhisker a white tom with black spots, blue eyes

Warriors: (toms and she-cats without mates)

Frostyclaw: a white tom icy blue eyes

Apprentice Duskpaw a light brown tom

Oakshade: a reddish brown tom

Willowsong: a silver tabby she-cat, pretty

Fernlily: a light gray, almost white, she-cat pale green eyes

Ivyshade: a lithe cream she-cat

Tigerblaze: a dark ginger tabby tom

Apprentice Birdpaw a cream tom

Foxcloud: a reddish brown tom

Ashwing: a dark gray she-cat

Patchfrost: a black-and-white tom with blue eyes

Apprentice Swiftpaw a light gray tom

Snowpatch: a small white tom with a dash of brown on his chest

Stormwillow: a silver gray she-cat, her first mate died

Mousepelt: a dusky light brown tom

Cedarshade: a dark gray tom

Birchclaw: a cream-and-brown tom

Apprentice Mudpaw, a brown tom with gray paws

Queens:

Poppycloud: a long-legged she-cat, dark ginger with cream patches, mother of Patchfrost's kits Hawkkit, Fernkit, Rosekit, Pinekit, and Whitekit

Leopardwing: a golden dappled she-cat with black markings around her face, mother of Cedarshade's kits Crowkit, Moonkit, Goosekit, and Skykit

SnowClan

Leader: Robinstar

Deputy: Lionspring

Medicine Cat:

Warriors:

Bramblecloud: a dark brown tom

Stonewind: a dark gray tom

Queens:

Lilyshade: golden tabby she-cat, mother of Bramblecloud's kits

Prolouge:

It was many moons after the Great Battle, and the full moon shone brightly on the island. Many cats sat, looking up at 4 cats. The biggest of them, a huge gray tom was speaking. "The only way for peace is to merge our clans! Unite with ShadowClan, and a new clan will be born! StormClan!"

The other three cats looked at him strangely. "You mean, shared leadership of all four clans?" a white tom queried.

"Yes!"

Another brown tabby spoke up. "We need time to think about this, Ashstar."

"Very well then. I will give you three days." The gray tom spoke, his eyes narrowing into slits. A cloud drifted across the sky, covering the moon, but none of the cats seemed to notice. The first to leave was the white tom. He led his clan out of the gathering briskly, barely giving them time to exchange with the other clans. They headed towards the moorlands, racing through the wide open plains.

Next to leave was the brown tabby, Oakstar. He set off at a steady and quick pace, trailed by his clanmates.

End of prologue…

Willowsong sat at the edge of the clearing StormClan called camp. Newleaf was just beginning and the nursery was filled with kits. She herself was not expecting kits, though she liked playing with them. Her father Patchfrost had not yet made the decision she dreaded; for the time being she was mateless.

"Come on Willowsong! We're going hunting!" Fernlily, her best friend and sister, called out to her with Tigerblaze. Everyone in StormClan knew that soon Fernlily and Tigerblaze would announce they were mates. Reluctantly Willowsong padded over to join them.

"We were thinking about going to the Owl Tree for hunting." Tigerblaze led the two she-cats into the forest.

They ran at a steady trot to the Owl Tree. Soon, they got there. The Owl Tree was a strange place to hunt; you needed to have sharp eyes because all the prey was hiding since owls lived in the trees. Carefully Willowsong scanned the area looking for an unlucky mouse or squirrel lurking about. Straight ahead of her sat a plump sparrow nibbling on some nuts. Paw by paw, Willowsong slithered forward through the undergrowth, making no sound. The sparrow still didn't notice her. When she was around one fox-length away from her prey, she leaped, causing leaves to rustle and alerting her sparrow. The sparrow noticed her too late; all it could do was stand there and chirp. Landing squarely on the sparrow, Willowsong killed it with a quick and clean nip to the neck. "Nice catch!" Fernlily meowed amiably.


End file.
